


On light feet

by Elesianne



Series: Fëanorian marriages [8]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Family, Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elesianne/pseuds/Elesianne
Summary: During Curufin and Netyarë’s year of engagement, he and his family offer to help Netyarë perfect her dancing skills. The help from Curufin’s brothers proves to be of questionable value.
Series: Fëanorian marriages [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/608221
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	On light feet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of my Fëanorian marriages series but works just fine as a standalone.

It is not always easy for Netyarë, the process of becoming part of Curufinwë's large and tight-knit and proud family. But there are moments that are easy and effortless and fun and this is one of them, twirling in Curufinwë's arms around the largest room in his parents' large house.

Netyarë has always liked dancing so she accepted at once when Curufinwë offered to teach her the more intricate dances favoured by the nobler folk of Tirion, with their more plentiful free time and expensive dancing tutors. He even promised the help of his family members.

Makalaurë and Tinweriel volunteered to help, both with music and with dances that need more participants than two; Tyelkormo had, apparently, also been easy to persuade as he happened to have little else to do; and the twins are also 'helping'. They had refused when Curufinwë asked them but hadn't been able to when their father told them to take part. They are to learn the dances, too.

So the ballroom in Fëanáro and Nerdanel's house is filled with noise: Pityo and Telvo arguing about whose turn it is to dance with Tyelkormo who is taking on a woman's role in the absence of enough women, the noise from the boisterous litter of puppies that he brought with him to socialise them ('To dancing?' Makalaurë had asked, dubious) and of course the lovely music from Makalaurë's harp.

He shouts commentary over the golden notes every now and then.

'You're too stiff, Curvo', Makalaurë comments for the third time. 'Are you not enjoying dancing with your bride-to-be? One would think you'd like this dance the best since you don't have to relinquish her to anyone else for even a moment.'

Netyarë tries to keep in her laughter as Curufinwë grinds his teeth and says, 'I would be more relaxed if Telvo and Tyelko didn't keep trying to dance into us.'

'We're not', says Tyelkormo over his shoulder, but his grin says that he certainly is.

'Boys, boys', admonishes Tinweriel. 'Go to the other end of the ballroom for a while. And move your hand down a little, Tyelko, you're not holding Telvo right.'

'Dancing as a woman is harder than I thought', Tyelkormo grumbles, but he does as Tinweriel instructed.

'Now let us all focus', Makalaurë says as he sets his fingers back on the strings. 'Relax your knees, Curvo.'

'For the fourth time!' Curufinwë snaps. 'You're here to provide music, not commentary, Cáno.'

'I am here to teach, too', Makalaurë points out a little condescendingly, even in Netyarë's opinion.

Netyarë sighs, wondering how much learning will actually happen in between the bickering of brothers.

'Come now, Curufinwë', she says. 'Makalaurë means no harm. You may have been a little stiff. This is meant to be a fun practice.'

'And you!' Curufinwë lets go of her so suddenly in the middle of a step that she is left trying not to trip over her own feet. 'From you at least I would have expected no critique, Netyarë.'

_Oh dear,_ Netyarë thinks, and out loud in quite another tone says, 'Oh, dear, I am sorry. This is a bit stressful situation, isn't it, besides being fun.'

Fortunately she is better at soothing ruffled feathers than not ruffling them in the first place. She can see Curufinwë untensing, his shoulders relaxing, his frown easing.

'Fine', he says, and takes her hand, but then lets go of it again. 'I am going to take a break and allow Makalaurë to concentrate on his playing for a while since he'll have no need to critique my form. You can dance with Telvo. Tyelko looks like he is in need of a break too.'

'Telvo keeps stepping on my toes and I am certain he does it on purpose', Tyelkormo says. 'I will happily relinquish him to you, Netyarë. May he have more mercy on your toes.' With a great bow, he retreats to the side of the dance floor and bends down to greet the puppies in their crate.

'Actually', says Tinweriel, gliding in, 'you will dance with me, Telvo. Pityo, you have mastered these steps so you will make a better practice partner for Netyarë while Telvo will get a chance to actually learn with me since he'll feel no need to play the fool like he did with Tyelko, will you, Telvo?'

The stern look she aims at Telvo has Netyarë quite convinced that Tinweriel's toes will fare better than Tyelkormo's.

The four of them take their places.

'You are not very much taller than me, Netyarë', Pityo observes happily. 'This will be easier than with Tinweriel.'

'Happy to oblige', Netyarë says drily. 'It won't be long until I will not be taller than you at all.'

She hides her smile at his proud expression at that. She remembers how gleeful her own little brother was when she grew to be taller than her though it was only by an inch. Little brothers are amusing creatures, and dear.

While older ones, she discovers, can be rather ridiculous, too.

'May I have this dance?' Tyelkormo is bowing, formal and haughty as any courtier, to Makalaurë.

Everyone else bursts out laughing but Makalaurë who, bemused, says, 'I am playing.'

'Curvo can play this song, can't you, Curvo? You may be a little rusty but you are not bad at it. You see, Cáno, I have just mastered the art of dancing the woman's steps, and divested as I am of my previous partner, I must get another chance to show off my skills.'

'Mastered is a generous word for it', Makalaurë laughs, but he gets up from his harp. 'If you will play, Curvo?'

'For this spectacle, happily', Curufinwë replies.

Pityo takes again Netyarë's hand that she'd held to her stomach as she laughed, and they take their positions. Just as Curufinwë's fingers begin plucking the strings, with a little hesitation but growing surer by the second, he calls out over the music, 'One word of criticism from you, Cáno, about this, too, and I'll take my bride and leave.'

'Don't worry, Curvo', Tyelkormo calls back. 'If he starts saying something rude, I'll headbutt him.'

Netyarë trips over her feet. Pityo catches her with a panicked whimper.

'I hope you'll take notes on how to be a supportive brother', Curufinwë says to Makalaurë.

'We are not going to be learning very much today, are we', Pityo whispers to Netyarë.

'Not with your brothers going on like that', she whispers back, but she grins, and she feels light on her feet.


End file.
